"Why," cried Susy, "how foo—;" but catching Prudy's eye, she added, "you may as well be Young Beauty; Flossy wouldn't mind. But now I think of it, Prudy, we can't play school, for girls don't go to school in India."
"Make believe you are boys, then," observed Johnny, whose interest in the game had flagged since he knew that Hindoos were not sharks.
"We'll play it's six o'clock in the morning," continued Susy.
"That isn't school time," remonstrated Dotty.
"O, yes, it is, in India. I'm the teacher. Give me a stick, please."
"Here's my old riding-whip," said Flossy, producing it from the wood-box. Things were tucked away in very queer places at Mrs. Eastman's.
Susy tied a string about her waist for a girdle, stuck the whip into it, and began to march the floor with great dignity.
"Now school has begun. You must all come in, and bow 'way down to the ground, and say, 'O, respected teacher, grant us knowledge.' They are very polite in India.—All but Prudy, she may stay behind and play truant."
The three pupils came forward, touched their foreheads to the floor, and repeated the sentence as directed, Johnny rendering it,—
"O, respectful Susy Parlin, don't you whip me!"—at the same time turning a somerset.